


alleluia

by Anonymous



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Foreplay, Grinding, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Little bit of that, M/M, Making Out, Neck Kissing, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, a lot of that, its literally over 2000 words of just smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:15:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26720494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Enjolras mutely shakes his head, grabbing both sides of Grantaire’s face in a searing kiss that Grantaire’s immediately groaning into, and it feels so good, the messy, fierce kiss they share, that Enjolras almost forgets he has to breathe, and once they break for air, Enjolras, gasping, undoes the buttons on his shirt, lifting it from his shoulders, because goddammit he wants to feel Grantaire’s skin against his.
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 99
Collections: Anonymous





	alleluia

“What do you want?” Grantaire asks, hands on Enjolras’ waist. Enjolras doesn’t know — Grantaire has regrettably taken a break from kissing his way down his neck and Enjolras is too addled from that to form a coherent thought; he just moans and tries, again, to take Grantaire's shirt off.

“What do you want?” Grantaire asks again. "Anything you want, tell me what you—"

“Your shirt — off — get it off,” he manages, as Grantaire groans and pushes him further against the door, then hastens to yank his shirt off.

“Anything else?” Asks Grantaire, and Enjolras mutely shakes his head, grabbing both sides of Grantaire’s face in a searing kiss that Grantaire’s immediately groaning into, and it feels so good, the messy, fierce kiss they share, that Enjolras almost forgets he has to breathe, and once they break for air, Enjolras, gasping, undoes the buttons on his shirt, lifting it from his shoulders, because  _ goddammit _ he wants to feel Grantaire’s skin against his and then Granatire’s hands are immediately on his torso, and then he's pulling him closer and Enjolras can't think of anything except the planes of Grantaire's chest where it meets his own _. _

Enjolras slips a hand around Grantaire’s shoulders, and he groans into their kiss. He wants — he wants to straddle Grantaire and he wants to see his shoulders and chest, not just feel them, and he wants to follow the lines of Grantaire's neck with his mouth and he wants and he wants and he wants —

And then Grantaire takes Enjolras’ hands and moves to pin them above his head, which,  _ hot _ , but Enjolras wants to touch and move and feel, and so he makes a noise and breaks Grantaire’s grip, then nips at his jaw. Grantaire counters with a roll of his hips and the friction, even against layers of fabric, completely scatters his thoughts — Enjolras scrabbles against Grantaire's shoulders and sucks at his neck, moaning up close to his ear. At that, Grantaire takes Enjolras by the hair and tugs his head to the side, and it hurts a little on his scalp but it's  _ so good _ , and Grantaire begins an attack on Enjolras' neck, and Enjolras' knees go weak; he remains upright only because he leans against the door, and Grantaire's still got his hands on Enjolras' waist.

"Nng," He manages, "I want —  _ oh fuck _ — couch, R." and Grantaire makes a noise of approval against Enjolras' neck, and then they separate, (barely,) and Enjolras almost thinks moving was a bad idea, because he no longer has Grantaire against his neck, but then Grantaire bears Enjolras into the cushions of the couch and  _ yes, this was the right idea _ .

Then Grantaire starts moving slowly up Enjolras' body, planting kisses from his exposed torso to his neck to his jaw and Enjolras is absolutely gone — melted and pliant and curving up against Grantaire's hands and mouth, small noises escaping from his throat, his head cloudy and his body on fire.

Then, Grantaire grinds down on Enjolras' hips and  _ yep, nope, I need to touch,  _ Enjolras thinks, so he sits up and pushes Grantaire until it's Grantaire who's laying back against the couch, Enjolras straddling him.

"Jesus," Grantaire mutters, looking up at Enjolras, and Enjolras is emboldened by his gaze. Enjolras wriggles a little on Grantaire's lap, and Grantaire moans and tosses his head back, and Enjolras takes that opportunity to latch back onto his neck. Grantaire lets out a stuttering exhale, then gets a hand in Enjolras' hair and drags him into a kiss. As their mouths move against one another, Enjolras feels the evidence of Grantaire's arousal hard on his leg, and it only makes him grind down harder.

They spend a while moving against one another, kissing and moaning and grinding, until Grantaire breaks away and asks, again:

"What do you want, Enj?" Enjolras slows his attack on Grantaire's clavicle and thinks about it. Grantaire's hands go lower until they're palming Enjolras' ass through his pants, and it feels so good that that's when Enjolras makes up his mind.

"Pants off," he says, already standing to remove the rest of his clothes. From this far away, Enjolras can really see all of Grantaire when he undresses, and Enjolras' dick, which had already been hard, gives a kick of interest as Grantaire's is revealed. Grantaire himself is larger than Enjolras, although they stand at about the same height; Enjolras is completely baffled as to how Grantaire can see himself as unattractive — he's got strong shoulders and thick, muscled thighs and a trail of dark hair that leads from his chest, down past his abdomen. He's clearly strong, and has a healthy weight around him, and his hair is floppy and curly and thick and dark, and his dick, his incredible, immaculate dick, is also about the same length as Enjolras', though Grantaire's is thicker, and he keeps the hair around it.

Grantaire sits back down on the couch, and in a split second, Enjolras decides that he wants to suck him. He kneels on the floor and settles between Grantaire's legs, and Grantaire, once he realizes what Enjolras intends to do, starts speaking quickly — in soft curses and praises and Enjolras thinks he hears some sort of classical reference — but then Enjolras wraps his lips around the head of Grantaire's cock and Grantaire takes in a large, ragged breath.

"Fuck, Enj…" Enjolras hears as he begins to work his tongue over and over the head. Grantaire's hands go in Enjolras' hair, and Enjolras moans, grinning around the dick in his mouth as the vibration leaves Grantaire groaning. Enjolras hollows out his cheeks and glances up; Grantaire's eyes are shut, his mouth slack; Enjolras bobs his head. Grantaire's hands tighten on Enjolras' hair, and Enjolras moans again. After spending some time trying to get all of Grantaire in his mouth, only letting it hit the back of his throat twice, Enjolras pulls off and begins licking, kissing, and biting the skin on Grantaire's thighs. After Grantaire says something about how much of a tease Enjolras is, he tries to tug Enjolras back to his dick with the hands in his hair, but Enjolras resists, partly because he wants to feel his hair pulled and partly because he doesn't want to finish Grantaire off quite yet. He licks at the precum that's gathered at the tip of Grantaire's dick, looking up at him through his lashes. Grantaire's eyes widen and he curses, taking a hand out of Enjolras' hair and squeezing the base of his cock. It's immensely gratifying.

When Grantaire has had some time to recover, (which Enjolras makes as difficult as possible by playing with Grantaire's balls and continuing to give kitten licks to his dick,) he leans forward and takes Enjolras' face between his two hands. Enjolras knows Grantaire thinks he's pretty after sucking dick — Grantaire's told him as much — but it's still satisfying when Grantaire looks reverently at his face, murmuring of his beauty — his reddened lips, reddened cheeks, darkened eyes, messy hair, as he kisses him gently. It only serves to heighten Enjolras' own desire.

Grantaire's gets one hand on Enjolras' neck and the other on his jaw, and Enjolras, still kneeling, melts into the kiss, lets his head spin and his thoughts become incoherent.

"Up, get up." Grantaire says abruptly, after they've exchanged a few more gentle kisses. Enjolras scrambles onto the couch again and straddles Grantaire, and then he lowers his hips onto Grantaire's, and Enjolras swallows his moan with a stuttering gasp. It feels  _ so good _ when their dicks move against each other without anything in the way. Enjolras drops his head and moans loudly into Grantaire's shoulder, and Grantaire, saying things that Enjolras' pleasure drowns out, moves his hands to Enjolras' ass again to push his hips down harder. Their kisses get messier — wetter, sloppier, less coordinated — until they're panting into each other's mouths and transitioning to mouthing wetly at each other's jaws and necks. Every other breath Enjolras lets out is a moan, and he inhales sharply when Grantaire takes them both in hand. Grantaire's dick is still wet from Enjolras' mouth, and the thought of Enjolras' spit lubing their handjob makes Enjolras need to bite down at Grantaire's shoulder to maintain a semblance of stamina and composure. He keens into the shoulder when Grantaire tugs at his hair, then Grantaire moans lowly into Enjolras' ear, speaking, still, in between moans, and Enjolras genuinely doesn't think he can take any more stimulation, else he'll come immediately. It takes him a moment to recognize that Grantaire's asking him a question.

"What do you want?" he asks, his lips brushing Enjolras' ear. Enjolras bucks his hips, and Grantaire twists his fingers. Enjolras' grip tightens on Grantaire's shoulder.

"Please," he moans — not begging yet. He could come from this, easily, he thinks, but there's something missing, there's something — something — 

"Ohhh,  _ fuck _ , R," Enjolras moans as Grantaire starts kneading his ass with the hand not currently jerking them both. Then, at Enjolras' encouragement, the hand dips lower and a finger starts circling his rim. Enjolras is inarticulate with pleasure. "I need —  _ God, R, _ — please, I need —" he pants, and Grantaire groans.

"Is that what you need? Does that feel good?" Grantaire asks, as he redoubles his effort on Enjolras' rim. Enjolras doesn't think he can come up with a coherent answer, so he moans long and low. "Am I making you feel good, Enj, is that what you want?"

The steady stream of questions — most of which Enjolras can't process with the one hand on his dick and one teasing his ass — become increasingly labored; when Enjolras half-opens his eyes (when had they shut?) Grantaire looks half wild, his hair mussed and eyes blown wide.

"Please, R —  _ ah _ — I need — I want —  _ ohh _ ,  _ R _ ," Enjolras moans, dangerously close to whining. Grantaire curses and removes his finger from around Enjolras' rim. Enjolras keens at the loss and makes up for it by circling his hips in tandem with Grantaire's hand on both their dicks. Grantaire straight up lets go of Enjolras' dick to squeeze at the base of his own again, and Enjolras outright whimpers. Grantaire's eyes meet his, and he traces the outline of Enjolras' lips with the finger he had been teasing Enjolras' rim with. Enjolras understands, then, what he means to do, and, groaning, sucks down the finger, laving his tongue in the valleys between each surrounding finger, and getting the whole digit wet. He kisses the tip of it as Grantaire draws it out, and Grantaire says "Oh, God," under his breath.

Grantaire takes the two of them in hand again, and Enjolras reaches down to help. He looks down — the sight of the two of them gripping themselves and each other nearly sends him over the edge; he grabs the curls at the base of Grantaire's head and drags him into another filthy kiss. Grantaire's finger resumes circling his rim again, and Enjolras takes the initiative to sit himself down upon it as the first knuckle breaches.

It's a carnal, immensely satisfying pleasure; he feels as if the only important thing in the world is that he keeps moving on the finger and it keeps moving in him. He moans into the kiss, slurring encouragement and Grantaire's name when they break for breath, and Enjolras begins circling his hips again and again, into the hands on his dick and the finger in his ass, each round bringing him greater pleasure. Grantaire crooks his finger inside Enjolras and Enjolras has to break from Grantaire's lips to moan, loud and long, into his neck.

"Feels so good," Enjolras, half-lidded, mumbles into Grantaire's ear.

"Fuck," Grantaire says. Enjolras drops his head to Grantaire's shoulder and mouths at the junction between his neck and shoulder while the pleasure builds. Grantaire tightens his grip on their dicks, and the resulting pleasure goes straight to Enjolras' head. Faintly, he's aware of Grantaire talking, but the heady pleasure that floods his head makes it impossible to pay attention. He feels his thighs start to tighten, his toes start to curl and his breaths start to quicken. Grantaire is relentless, rubbing over Enjolras' prostate, and Enjolras is helpless to do anything but  _ feel _ , and it's almost too much, but he doesn't want to come because it feels too good to stop, and — and — and — 

And then Grantaire nudges his face under the curtain that's become of Enjolras' hair and presses groans into his neck and shoulder, and the extra stimulation makes Enjolras completely lose it and white out with pleasure.

When he comes to himself, he's collapsed onto Grantaire's chest, and Grantaire's eyes are locked on him, his hand moving furiously against his cock, and then Enjolras gets to watch in hazy relaxation as Grantaire tumbles off the edge. That, too, is satisfying.

It occurs to Enjolras to clean up, at least partially, the mess they've made of themselves, so he brings the hand that was around his and Grantaire's dicks to his mouth, and lazily starts licking up the mess. When Grantaire opens his eyes, panting, he registers what Enjolras is doing, and he grabs his hand, looking almost horrified.

"You don't have to do that." He says hoarsely. 

"I know." Enjolras says, and takes his hand back. "I want too." 

Grantaire looks choked, then laughs under his breath and says, "If I hadn't literally just came, that alone could get me up again." Enjolras smiles. They rest for a while, until Enjolras decides he does, in fact, want a nap, so they get up, move to the bathroom, clean up, clean up the living room, then retreat to Enjolras' bedroom.

"Next time," says Enjolras, already half asleep, "I want to be on a bed."

"Next time?" asks Grantaire. Enjolras can hear the smile in his voice. He hums against Grantaire's shoulder, where marks are beginning to become all the more colorful. "On a bed it is." Grantaire says. It's the last thing, besides Grantaire's heartbeat, that Enjolras hears before drifting off.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! If you did, please leave kudos and a comment — it would mean the world to me! I may still write a sequel :)
> 
> Have a good morning/day/night!


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